Page 13 of Butter You Up
While I may have only spent a few hours in some states, I spent weeks in other states–I boondocked in the deserts of New Mexico, spent nearly fourteen days in a small beach town in Florida, and hiked part of the Appalachian Trail in Virginia. I’ve been on the road for six months, and I’ve lived a whole other life.
It has its costs, though. Once I get back in Spokane, I can see for myself if my dad’s taking his meds, meeting up with friends, seeing his therapist, and make sure his prosthetic is still fitting well, and…and, and, and.
“That’s my dad,” I tell Alex. In the picture, my dad’s prosthetic is visible, so I explain. “He lost his leg in the Gulf War.” I perch on the edge of the bed, putting my palm behind me and leaning back so I can look up at the photo. We’re not touching, but Alex stills next to me anyway. “He’s actually the reason I’m living in the van.”
“How so?”
“First of all, the trailer he lives in now isn’t much bigger than this. Getting used to living in small spaces wasn’t a problem. But mostly it’s because when I was a kid, he checked out a book from the library for me calledThe Mystery of the Black Raven.It was part of a series called Boxcar Children. Have you heard of it?”
“Vaguely.”
“So, these kids had a boxcar in their backyard that was their playhouse. And Ilovedthat idea. My world was small growing up in a trailer park, and for them to have their own space was just wild to me. But we ran out of books at the library and Dad couldn’t always get reliable work. So, he started making up stories for me. The series was called ‘Molly-girl and Satoot.’ Satoot was my Husky stuffed animal, and in the stories, Molly-girl and Satoot lived in a shipping container that would travel all over the world.”
I look down at Alex, and he’s watching me intently. “I looked for a camper van with a pop-up for a long time, one that could sleep two people, but Dad decided he couldn’t go.”
“Because of his leg?”
“Maybe.” I shrug. That was his excuse, but I think it was really more about his mental health, a topic I don’t think is fair to unpack onto Alex, my boss and a near stranger. I stand up and brush myself off. “Anyway, you’ve seen the whole thing now.”
Alex unfolds from my bed, and I turn and walk away before he can loom over me.
“Will I see you tomorrow for more strawberries?” I ask as I step into my slip-on shoes and step out of the van. I retrieve Alex’s boots, and he sits in the open door and pulls them on.
“Nah, got farm work to do. I’ll see you on Thursday.” When he’s finished tying his laces, he stands. “Thank you for showing me your van. It’s very cool.”
I brighten. “Vaniel appreciates it. See you Thursday.”
Alex walks away and gives a sharp whistle. His truck is in the driveway, and in the dark of night, I see Trixie emerge from Baabara’s home and race toward him. He climbs into the truck, and I duck back inside just before the headlights illuminate my home so my boss doesn’t catch me watching him.
CHAPTER7
MOLLY
Sunday startsoff slow but picks up in the afternoon. We sell even more strawberries than we did yesterday...so many strawberries, in fact, it gets to be thin in the bushes and a few customers even remark they wish they could buy more. Lia says it’s likely that most of these people are city folks headed back after the weekend and hoping to take a bit of upstate home with them.
Just before bed, I remember I need to email the electrician that I’ve been talking to about replacing the batteries in Vaniel to let him know I’m in town and need him to come by and take a look. I’m hoping he can do that this week before I start working for Alex on Thursday.
Monday morning Ethel takes me into Climax, the nearest town with a grocery store, and I stock up on food. I buy a ton of canned and dry goods so I don’t have to make regular trips to the store and can fill the mini fridge with essentials. We also stop in a souvenir shop that sells knick-knacks with the wordClimax!printed on them…exclamation point included. I buy a snow globe with a phallic-looking cannon, and I occasionally shake it and giggle.
Ethan runs an extension cord out to Vaniel so that I can run my power-hogging devices like my laptop and my electric kettle. Boiling on the stove isso much slower.
However, the electrician has not responded despite a series of desperate emails I have sent over the next few days.
On Thursday morning, I don’t have to be at Udderly Creamy ‘til nine. I walk to the pole barn and shed my gloves, stopping to inspect my hands. They’ve always been kinda dry, but I’ve been having an eczema flare-up lately; the left hand, extending from the lower knuckle of my pinkie down to the lifeline, has gotten red and cracked. I medicate it with a greasy ointment before bed and wear gloves for a few nights until it goes away. It’s looking a lot better now, the skin around it pale with the hypo-pigmentation that tells me it’s healing.
I wash my hands with my special soap, use the bathroom, and wash my hands again. When I come out, Ethel is striding toward me.
“Good morning,” she calls, slowing. “Can I interest you in taking some coffee or tea with me?”
“Sure! Let me get dressed for work, and I’ll be over in about fifteen minutes.”
“Take your time. I’ll have some toast and jam out as well.”
My stomach grumbles at the thought of more of Ethel’s homemade jam, and I get ready quickly, walking my bike out to park it next to Baabara’s palace so that I can leave right after tea.
Ethel’s on the front porch, and I pull out my phone as I take a seat in the padded wicker chair next to her. “I have something to show you.” I navigate to the picture of Alex in my bed the other night and when I show it to Ethel, she laughs.
“Ah, that boy was always a big one.” She chuckles, pouring tea for me, and tops off her own. She gestures to the spread—toast, butter, jam, and some fruit. “When he came to live with us after our son and his wife passed, he was twelve and still pretty scrawny. Ate half the fridge, it felt like, and then next thing we know, he’s sprouted like Jack’s beanstalk.” She settles back in her chair. “Just like with Ethan, the growth spurt was followed by getting a lot more involved in farm life.” Her eyes twinkle. “If you ask nicely, maybe I’ll show you pictures sometime.”
